THE JUBILEE SOVEREIGN by Marriott Edgar (1937)

On Jubilee Day the Ramsbottoms
Asked all their relations to tea,
Including young Albert's Grandmother -
An awkward old 'party' were she.

She'd seen Queen Victoria's Jubilee
And her wedding to 'Albert the Good'
But got quite upset when young Albert
Asked her how she'd got on in the Flood.

She cast quite a damper on t'party,
But she cheered up a bit after tea
And gave Albert a real golden sov'rin
She'd saved up since last Jubilee.

It had picture of t'Queen on the one side
And her dragon fight on the reverse;
And tasted of camphor and cobwebs
Through being so long in her purse.

Albert cuddled the coin and he kissed it,
And felt the rough edge with his tongue,
For he knew by the look of his father
It wouldn't be his very long.

"Shall I get your money-box, Albert ?"
Said mother, so coaxing and sweet.
But Albert let drop an expression
He must have picked up in the street.

"I'll show you a trick with that sov'rin,"
Said Pa, who were hovering near;
Then he took and pretended to eat it
Then brought it back out of his ear.

This magic filled Albert with wonder,
And before you could say, 'Uncle Dick'
He'd got the coin back from his father
And performed the first part of the trick.

When they saw as he'd swallowed his sov'rin
With excitement his relatives burned,
And each one suggested some process
For getting the money returned.

Some were for fishing with tweezers,
While some were for shaking it out;
If they only got back a few shillings
They said 't would be better than nowt!

They tried holding Albert head downwards,
And giving his back a good thump;
Then 'is uncle who worked for a chemist,
Said, "There's nowt for it but 'stommick' pump."

They hadn't a stomach pump 'andy,
But Pa did the best that he could
With a bicycle pump that he'd borrowed.
But that weren't ha'porth of good'.

At last they took him to a Doctor.
Who looked down his throat through a glass,
And said, "This will need operation,
I fear that he'll 'ave to 'ave gas!"

"How much is this 'ere going to cost us ?"
Said Father, beginning to squirm;
Said the Doctor, "It comes out expensive,
The best gas is eight pence a therm."

"There's my time - four shillings an hour,
You can't do these things in two ticks;
By rights I should charge you a guinea,
But I'll do it for eighteen and six."

"What eighteen and six to get sov'rin ?"
Said Father, "That doesn't sound sense.
I'll tell you what, you best keep Albert,
And give me the odd eighteen pence."

The Doctor concurred this arrangement,
But to this day remains in some doubt
As to whether he's in eighteen shillings,
Or whether he's eighteen pence out.